


The Gold Motel: No Sanity

by mrgoldsdearie



Series: The Gold Motel [12]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Horror, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5596423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumbelle AU inspired by the movie “Psycho” - The Gold’s prepare for Norman and Robert’s stay at the mental hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gold Motel: No Sanity

**Author's Note:**

> I think things are moving the way I want them and I truly can’t wait to write the next chapter. This one’s filled with more angst, but I think there’s light at the end of the tunnel and some fluff moment as a cure. Please enjoy and happy reading.

Robert Gold lays on his back on the cold cellar floor. He glares at the ceiling blaming himself for the miserable state of Norman and Belle's life. If only he hadn't came apart at the seams and confessed to what Norman did to his biological father, Malcolm. (His fear of going to the mental hospital is what made him confide the thirty-nine year old secret to Belle.) He and Belle might not have had sex over the shallow grave of the child beating bastard. Making their situation more difficult than it already is.

For the first time, in ages, Robert Gold is quite confused.

Confused about his relationship with Belle. Unsure of what they honestly have with each other. Skeptical of anything building from this thing continuously pushing them together and yanking them apart. He loves Belle with all his heart. He wants nothing more but a chance to be with her, but he doesn't see how that could ever happen. Norman would never be open to sharing his wife with a man he despises. And Norman has his reason not to be open to something so unorthodox.

Robert Gold is broken and alone.

He picks himself from the floor and gimps up the cellar stairs to the living room. He grabs Belle’s jacket from the arm chair, digs through her pockets, and find the keys to her yellow Volkswagen bug. Then tosses the black garment to the floor once finding the key chain. Robert storms out of the front door and hobbles down the steps on the hill. He takes his seat inside Belle's car and drives himself to the nearest open liquor store.

 

**\----**

 

After crying for almost an hour, Belle was able to fall asleep. Only to wake two hours later by the loud crash of dishes breaking in the kitchen. She rushes downstairs and finds Robert hunched over picking up pieces of broken china. “What are you doing?”, she asks, annoyed with waking up after finally getting to sleep.

He turns to Belle with teary eyes that burn redder than hot coals. “Go back to bed,” he slurs and continues cleaning the mess.

Belle scans over the kitchen and notices a half empty bottle of scotch on the cabinet next to the sink. “You're drunk,” she states, sharp. “Norman doesn't drink. He can't hold his liquor. You shouldn't be drinking.”

“You like that. Don't you, lass?”, he growls through his uneven teeth and stands to his feet. Clutching onto a large piece of the broken plate in his right hand, hiding it behind his leg where Belle can't see.

“I like what?”, she crosses her arms, shifting her weight to the left.

“Telling _me_ what to do," he staggers closer to her. “Having control.”

“Somebody has to in this mad house.”

“It shouldn't be you, lass." he snarls. "You're just another patient in this asylum.” His hand tightens around the sharp edge of the china, piercing into his skin, but doesn't break it. Feeling the pain is reminding him that he's still alive. Something he needs after feeling so numb. “By the way, being a light weight is not the reason why Norman doesn't drink.” His words slur again and he loses his balance, but manages to catch himself. “It's because he's afraid it might turn him into Malcolm. I…” Points to himself with with the empty hand. “Do not have that fear.” He blinks, focusing the two images of Belle into one.

“It's good that you don't have that fear, but you still shouldn't drink. It isn't going to help you.”

“There you go again!" Flings his left arm every-which-way. "Telling me what to do!" Points to himself again. "If I want to get piss drunk, than I'm gonna to get piss drunk and you're not gonna to stop me,” he snaps. “You don't give two shits about me. So quit acting like you do!”

“You don't get to do that to me!”, she snaps.

“Do what?”, he gruffs.

“You don't get to accuse me of not caring. I care about you and Norman with all my heart, yet both of you scare me half to death,” she barks back. “I'm not fearful for my life. I know neither of you will hurt me that way. I'm scared to death of losing you.”

He gives her a vicious glare, lifting his right hand with the broken plate. “Maybe you're wrong about being afraid of me.”

She steps closer to him, fearless. To her, he's just a loud barking dog without a bite. “Is that a threat?” Because if it is, she ready to remind him of the day she knocked him out cold.

His lips quivers as the hard expression falls from his face. “No,” tears stream from his eyes. “No, not to you,” he confesses. “But to me.”

She takes a sharp breath. Does he mean what she thinks he means? “You've been down here thinking about hurting yourself?”

Robert remains silent.

“You can't do that!”  

“No one needs me. No one loves me and no one would miss me.” His hand tremble holding the sharp plate. One quick slash to the throat would end it all. No more broken heart. No more pain. No more chaos. Just silence. “I'm unwanted and I keep ruining people's lives. I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to fix myself.”

“You're wrong. You're so dead wrong, Robert.” She takes another step closer to him, gently taking a hold of his wrist and slowly lower his arm. “I would miss you.”

A breeze of hope sweeps through his body when she speaks those words. Refreshing.

“Bae would miss you. She loves you to death. And Neal. Neal would miss you too. You guys really got a chance to get to know each other. Why would you want that to end?”

“I don't want it to end,” he sobs.

“Then don't end it. You shouldn't be thinking like this. This isn't you.” She cups his cheek and he melds into her gentle touch. “You're too damn stubborn and cocky to hurt yourself. You're just fucking drunk!”

He drops the broken china to the floor and it shatters. What was he thinking? She's right. This isn't him at all.

“You're letting the alcohol get to you. It’s making you do and say idiotic shit,” she yelps at him. She doesn't know what else to do. Never thought she'd see him kicked down so low. “Please, clean up this mess.” A tear falls to her cheek, hoping that she isn't making things worse. She knows that Robert won't go through with anything he's thinking. At least that’s what she hopes. She hopes it's all just the alcohol speaking. “And bring your drunk ass to bed.”

“Okay,” he replies, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his pajama shirt.

“Okay?”

“Yes, my love. Okay,” he shuffles to the corner of the kitchen and takes hold of the broom and dustpan. Sweeps up the shattered china and throws everything away. He then limps to the kitchen sink, opens the bottle of scotch and attempts the pour it down the drain.

“Wait, Robert,” she stops him before he wastes a single drop. “How about we save that.”

“Why?”

She meets him at the sink and takes the liquor from his hand. “We should save it for when we're all feeling better. So we can drink it together.”

“You mean, you, Norman and me?”

“Yes,” she screws on the bottle top.

“I'd like that.”

“Good,” she takes his hand and leads them to the kitchen door. “I'm sorry, Robert,” stops at the door and faces him. “I shouldn't have told you to stay away from me. That's not what I want. And I shouldn't have led you on in the cellar. That was wrong of me. That was disgusting of me and for that I’m truly, truly sorry.”

“It's alright, sweetheart. We've both done some horrible things to each other.”

“Yes.”

“I don't hold any ill feelings towards you. I could never do that. Not anymore. At least.”

She nods.

“I'm so tired, Belle,” he takes a ruffled breath. “I need to get some sleep and I don't want to talk any more.”

“Okay.” She opens the kitchen door and leads them up to the bedroom.

 

**\----**

 

The next morning, Belle lays awake in bed and watches her husband sleep. She isn't sure who would be opening their eyes, but she doesn't care. She's happy that he's laying next to her sleeping and not in a permanent state of rest.

He shifts in the bed and turns to face her, opening his rich brown eyes.

“Good morning, sweetie,” she whispers.

“Good morning, my love.”

She still can't tell who's lying next to her.

“How d-d-did you sleep,” he stutters.

She smiles radiantly. It's Norman. “I slept okay.”

“That's g-g-good enough.” He closes his eyes tight and massages his temple. “I have a h-h-headache this morning and I feel a b-b-bit groggy.”

“I knew you would.” She turns over, picks up two painkillers and a glass of ice water from the nightstand. She got them moments after she woke up and had them waiting for him.

“Thank you, d-d-dearie.”

“You're welcome.”

He sits up, pops the pills into his mouth, drinks the water and rest the glass on the nightstand next to his side of the bed.

“I need to tell you something.” She lays her head on his lap.

Every time he hears that sentence, he knows it isn't good, but it could be worse if she kept it all inside. “Okay,” he answers, softly petting her head. He doesn't want to get upset at whatever she tell him. Being angry hasn't helped anyone so far.  

“Robert wasn’t feeling well last night. I think he's depressed. He needed a drink to numb his pain.”

“That's w-w-why I have the headache?”

“Yes, sweetie.” She caresses her hand soothingly over his thigh. “He's scared, Norman. He's so scared about going to the hospital.”

“He told you th-th-that?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sc-scared too,” he divulges.

“You're not upset that I talked to him?”

“It's not like I can d-d-do anything to stop it,” he says. Deep down inside Norman knows he doesn't have control over his life. If anything is going to get better between him and Belle, he has to take hold of the reins. Somehow. “If he needed help and s-s-someone to talk to, I'm okay with th-th-that person being you.”

She sits up and faces him. “You are?”

“Yes,” he nods. “He isn't going to talk to someone like Dr. Hopper. H-h-hopefully that will change." he shifts in the bed. “You… Umm… You were right a-about something that I kept d-d-denying to myself.”

“What's that?”

“Th-th-that he is a part of me,” he admits. Norman has  known this, but couldn’t accept it. He couldn't let himself believe that a part of him is capable of the horrible things he knows Robert has done. It terrifies him. But he desperately wants to change this way of thinking. He’s hoping that it will help him become a whole person. Norman need to learn to love himself. Both parts of himself. “If he n-n-needed your help, if he needed to t-t-talk to you, that means I needed it too.”

“Yes, Norman, I think it does,” she takes his hand. They have had a tough week together and yesterday was one of the roughest day. But it appears that any self awareness that Norman discovered during his time away is still there. Belle is relieved to see that he hasn't thrown it all out. She knows he's going to need it. “I have to tell you something else.”

The knot that's already in the pit of his stomach tightens even more when he hears there’s more she has to say. None of this can be good. He knows Belle doesn't want to keep anymore secrets from him. None of this is good at all. “W-w-what is it, Belle?”

“Robert was thinking about hurting himself.”

“What?!”, he exclaims. His Papa has never tried such a thing in his life. He's always been the strong one. Something is deeply wrong if Robert feels so weak.

“He was drunk… Very drunk,” Belle explains it the way she saw the situation. “I think it was just the alcohol speaking, but he doesn't think anyone would miss him. He doesn't think anyone loves him. He was sad. I didn't think he could be so sad.”

“D-d-did he try anything?”

“No, sweetie, he didn't. He was just thinking about it,” she assures him. “He's so lonely. Much like you were when I first met you. He needs someone to love him. You love him, Norman. Don't you?”

Norman remains silent and he turns his head away from Belle.

“You love him just a little.” She places her hand on his cheek and turns him back to face her. “Right?” She looks him square in the eye.

“Yes, I  guess d-d-do,” he admits. “For him being such a g-g-gigantic pain in my ass, there's still a part of m-m-me that does love him.”

“I think you need to tell him that. He really needs to hear it before you go to the hospital.”

“Alright, Belle.”

“I'm really not comfortable with you going to the hospital and he's thinking things like that. I won't be there to stop him.”

“Alright, Belle. Alright.” He wraps his arms around her. “B-b-but I think you're right about him just being d-d-drunk. Papa wouldn't do something like that.”

“I hope so.” she nuzzles into the side of his neck.

“You must have b-b-been so scared, Belle. I'm so sorry. It s-s-seems like all I've been doing is scaring you. I’ve never wanted to do that.”

“Yes, I was scared, but it's okay. I know you don't mean it. You're just sick and both parts of you are afraid.” This is the first time Robert and Norman have been fearful of something together. “You don't know what to do, but you're going to get some help and that's good.”  

“Yes, I am getting help. We c-c-can't do this on our own anymore, Belle.”

She pulls out of his arms and wipes his tear away with her thumb. “No, we can't. I don't know what would happen if we kept trying. I don't think I'd be able to go on this way. But I can't stand the idea of losing you. I don't know what I'd do if I did. I love you so much, Norman.”

“I love you too, Belle.”

“I need you to get better. We both need to get better. I miss being happy with you.”

“We’ll get b-b-back there again. I promise. We’ll be happy. We’ll b-b-be happy and together again. I-I swear.”

“I believe you.” She falls into his arms once again. It's her favorite place in the world.

Norman kisses the crown of her head and contemplates everything she's told him.

Belle thinks about last night and decides not to tell Norman what she learned about him down in the cellar. She doesn't think it's her secret to tell. She knows that Norman needs to know, but it has to come from someone who was there. “I’m going to make you a warm bath.” She pulls out of his arms. “You still smell like alcohol and the bath will help you to feel better.”

“Okay, d-d-dearie. Thank you.” He kisses her cheek.

“We… Umm… We have a few days before Monday. We need to talk about getting some things in order.”

“Yes I-I know.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll talk about that later.”

He nods.

She licks her lips and kisses him softly. “I'll be back.”

“Okay.”

Belle leaves the room and checks on Baelee in the nursery. She finds her beautiful ray of sunshine standing up in her bed. “Good morning, Sweet Pea." she picks her up from the crib. “You wanna help me make daddy a bath?”

Baelee's rest her head on her mother's shoulder, happy to be in her arms.

“Pee yew.” A good breeze of her daughter's unique scent slaps Belle in the face. “You sure made a mess of yourself… Okay… Change of plan.” She paces to the dresser and pulls out a clean dress for Baelee. “We’ll make daddy's bath and then I'm gonna give you one in the kitchen sink.” She collects everything to freshen up her baby girl and exits the nursery to run Norman's bath.

After starting the warm water for her husband, Belle returns to her bedroom. “I have the tub filling up for you, Norman.”

Norman sits motionless in the bed, staring blankly at the wall.

“Norman!”, she storms towards the bed. She's seen him zone out many times before. After learning what he did in one of these trances, only causes her look at them in a different light. “Norman!”, she kicks the bed. She's physically forced him out of this state once before and told herself that she'd never do it again. But if she has too, she will. “Norman,” she barks one final time and he flinches out of his zombie mode. “What were you doing?”, she asks, sitting on the bed and holds her child close to her heart.

“I… Umm…” He dazes around the room in a state of confusion. “Umm…”, he gulps and licks his dry lips.

“You were spacing out. Are you alright?”

“Yes I'm f-f-fine. I was just thinking.”

“I called for you three times and you sat there frozen.”

“I know… And I'm sorry, Belle. I r-r-really was just thinking. I was th-th-thinking about Papa and what you told me. I was also thinking a-about everything that's happened between us and the th-th-things that you did.” He strokes his hand across Baelee's clump cheek. He still can't believe that so early in her life span, he almost lost her twice. “The things I did,” he drops his hand. “It was… It was a lot and I left m-m-myself for a moment. I frightened you again. D-d-didn't I?”

“I wasn't frightened. Just concerned about you like I always am. I know you wouldn't hurt me.”

His eyes widen. “Of course not.” Where's is this comment coming from? “Were you th-th-thinking that I would?” He’d die before he'd let himself touch her in anger. It doesn't matter what she's done, he'd never hurt her that way.

“No… No, I wasn't.” She was only reminding herself that he wouldn't. Seeing him in the hypnotic state only made what Robert confessed to her about him even more true. She just needed to say aloud that he wouldn't hurt her. “Where do you go when you do that?”, she asks, looking to learn more about these episodes. “You so easily shut yourself off. Is that something you did a lot when you were living with Malcolm?”

“Umm…”, he ponders for a instant. There's are so many missing moments in his life. “I-I think so. I remember having t-t-times where Malcolm would have me sit with him while he d-d-drank. He wanted me to be with him so th-th-that he’d know where I was and what I was d-d-doing.” He closes his eyes and the vividly memory comes back him.

_Seven year old Norman Gold, sits at the old oak table in the kitchen with his drunk father across from him. He watches the beer drip from Malcolm's damp lips and land into his thick beard.  
_

_Malcolm hollers at his only son for his misbehavior.  
_

_Norman’s offence; the crime of being born._

“He always th-th-thought I was planning to run away. I was,” Norman shrugs. “But I would just sit th-th-there with him, stuck in my mind, th-th-thinking. I’d think about a lot of things. M-m-mostly being happy and having someone who'd loved me. Th-th-that was before I met Papa. Most of the times when I'm in my head like that, I d-d-don't remember. But I remember sometimes and I r-r-remember what happened just now. I was only thinking, Belle. Th-th-that's all.”

“Alright, Norman.” She believes his every word. “Well, your bath is ready, sweetie,” she changes the subject.

“Okay.” He pulls the crimson comforter off of himself. “What are you d-d-doing with this one?” Tassels the tight curls on Baelee's head.

“Our little giggle monster is a little poopy monster. I’m gonna give her a bath in the kitchen. While you're up here taking yours.”

“Oh, I th-th-thought I was smelling something,” he smiles brightly at his daughter. At this point, she’s the only thing solid in Belle and Norman’s marriage. She keeps them all from breaking.

“Say, daddy you did,” Belle coos at the baby girl, bouncing her on her knee. “You better get into the bathroom before the tub overflows,” she says to her husband.

“You're right.” He jumps out of bed and kisses both girls on the cheek. “Thank you, Belle.”

“You're welcome.” She watches him exit the bedroom and stands from the bed. “We’ll be down stairs if you need us,” she informs him and makes her way to the kitchen.

 

**\----**

 

Norman turns off the running water in the tub and stands above the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. The stress he feels on the inside is starting to show on the surface. He notices fine lines at the corners of his eyes that he's never seen before. His skin is so dry it's starting to resemble the hide of a crocodile.

When did he let this happen? He's never seen himself so old.

Norman turns the knob on the sink, cups his hands under the running water and splashes the liquid on his face. He stands up straight and glares at himself in the mirror again. His eyes fall heavy and his breathing slows as he transitions into the state where's he's two men at once. “I d-d-don't know why you're here if you don't want to talk,” Norman speaks to himself in the mirror.

He slowly turns his head to the right, looking at the closed bathroom door. “I never said I didn't want to talk,” Robert answers back.

“You d-d-didn't have to say it. I already know you d-d-don't.” He turns back to the mirror. “Belle…”, Norman pauses, thinking about what she told him. “Belle told me what you were th-th-thinking.”

“Huh,” Robert grunts with a merger eye roll. “I figured she would,” shrugs. “Everyone seems to be doing the honesty thing lately.”

“You've always b-b-been honest with me. For the m-m-most part.”

“I've tried to be.”

“What’s wrong w-w-with you, Papa?”, Norman asks. Seeing Robert falling down so far is something he never thought could happen. He's always been strong and knowing that Robert can break is bewildering to Norman.

“Nothing, son,” he lies. The sense of failure from the night Norman killed Malcolm has lurked up on Robert and he suffers from a broken heart. Falling in love with a woman he can't have is one of the most punishing things he's ever lived through. It constantly eats away at him. “I was just drunk last night and whatever Belle told you was the truth,” now he speaks honestly to Norman. Though they have their extreme disagreements, Robert knows Norman does worry about him. “I wouldn't try to hurt myself if that's what you're concerned about. If I tried to do that, that would mean I'm taking you away for your family and I can never do that to you,” he assures Norman. He knows how hard he worked to build a family. Robert watched him do it in the three years he was deeply isolated in the subconscious. Seeing what Norman was able to do only made Robert want the same.

A life of his own.

Robert could never deliberately take Norman away from his family. There's no way he would ever try to do that again. That chapter in his life is over. He has grown from the beast he used to be. “I was just drunk, son. I was drunk and being foolish.”

“Okay, Papa,” Norman says, touching his image in the mirror. “Th-th-there is a part of me that d-d-does care about you and it always will.”

“I know. I guess that’s just easy to forget with the way we treat each other.”

“Yes, b-b-but all that's going to change.”

“We’ll see.” Robert has no trust for therapists and psychologists. He won't believe they can help until he physically sees it. “I'm going to leave you with your family now, Norman. I know you chose to check yourself into the hospital on Monday so you can have this time with, Nugget. I'm not going to take any of it away from you.”

“Okay,” Norman nods. “D-d-don't be too scared about the hospital, Papa. They’re g-g-going to help us.”

“We’ll see, son,” he sighs out. He knows all they're going to go is try to get rid of him. “I'll see you soon.”

“Belle cares about you too,” Norman blurts without a stutter, unsure of why he did. Maybe just to give his Papa a bit of twilight in the deep dark hole they're all stuck in. He knows he needs it. And Belle is right, they shouldn't go to the hospital with his mind in such a gaping rut. Though, the situation between all them may worsen once they’re checked in. “She said so in the therapy session,” he quickly adds.

Robert doesn't respond. He only leaves his son to his bath.

##  *********

 

Over the course of the next two days, Norman and Belle discuss how the house and the motel should be maintained during his time away. They also call ahead to the hospital to arrange his stay.

Because the duration of Norman’s stay at the hospital is unknown, he doesn't want Belle to manage the motel on her own. But they still need to make money while he's away. Norman presses Belle to get her old job back at the Storybrooke Library, but she disagreed with the notion.

Belle is at a point where she doesn't trust leaving Baelee in the care of another. A job at the library doesn't suit her needs. She rather manage the motel and take care of her child. It's what she's always done with Norman under the roof, she doesn't see a reason why that has to change.

With the tourist still flocking in to visit the motel, Belle thinks closing at the height of its popularity isn't the best idea. They'd make more money keeping the business open, than they'd ever would if she worked at the library.

Norman hates the idea of her managing the property on her own, she's never done it before. He's worried for her safely, but doesn't have much of a choice than to allow her to do it.

As the hours tick closer to Norman's stay at the mental health faculty, he spends every waking moment with his daughter. He loves Baelee more than his own life and hates the idea of leaving her again. But he can't be the father that she needs if he doesn't.

 

**\----**

 

On the night before Norman is to check himself in, husband and wife sit quietly in their bedroom. They watch TV and avoid any further conversation about his departure. Norman sits up in bed and flips through the channels and Belle lays by his side.

They're both weary of the separation ahead of them.

“Turn back to the other channel, sweetie.” Belle sits a pillow on Norman's lap, making it more comfortable for her head to rest upon.

“Which one? I just passed th-th-three of them.”

“The cartoon channel.”

“Alright, Belle.” He presses the button on the remote three times and returns to the channel she requested.

They stare at the idiot box. Watching a cartoon they've both enjoyed in the past, but tonight it doesn't give them the joyous feeling they've felt before.

Tonight feels as though there have been a death in the family.

“We’ve seen th-th-this episode, Belle.”

“I know,” she replies. “But can you just leave it on.”

“Okay.” He gazes down at her and runs his fingers through her hair. He's going to miss her silky threads. “I f-f-feel like we should be d-d-doing something else.”

She turns her head, looking up to him. “Like what?”

“Th-th-this is the last time, for a while, we’ll be in our r-r-room together like this.”

“I know.”

“I f-f-feel like this isn't enough.”

“What do you mean, Norman?”, she asks. “Are you saying we should be having sex or something?”

He stops the gentle stroke of his hand on her head. “No… I-I don't know.”

“Do you feel like having sex, sweetie?”

“No… N-n-not really,” he answers honestly. “Do you?”

She shakes her head. “Not really.”

“D-d-do you think that's bad?”

“No, I don't. Do you?”

“No,” he answers. “I just f-f-feel like we're wasting this time together.”

“We probably are.”

“Well…” He leans into her and kisses her softly on the lips. “Let's not waste it,” murmurs and turns off the television. “Excuse me, d-d-dearie.”

She moves from his lap, he stands to his feet and turns on the overhead light in the room. “What are you doing?”, she watches him inquisitively.

“I'll be b-b-back,” he steps out of the room.

Belle falls back against the headboard and waits for him. She isn't quite sure where all this is heading.

Norman returns nearly two minutes later, carrying a few books and an old sugar cookie tin. “Bae is so peaceful when she's sleeping. I c-c-could watch her sleep all day,” he says, taking his seat on the edge of the bed. “Precious girl.”

“I could watch her too.” She looks down at the items he sat on the bed. “Sweetie,” she leers up at him. “These are Bae’s.”

“I know, b-b-but she's too young for them and I thought we should put them to g-g-good use.”

“You want to color in her coloring books?”

“Yes. I just want to d-d-do something with you that’s not just st-staring at the tv and coloring sounds a lot more fun than sex.”

“I do greatly enjoy having sex with you, Norman,” she smirks, arching a brow. “But you are right. Coloring does sound more fun.”

“I was h-h-hoping you'd agree.” He shifts in the bed, crossing his legs. “I'll let you have first pick of the b-b-books.”

“Okay,” she shifts through book and chooses the princess coloring pages. “I want this one.”

“I was g-g-going to pick that one.”

“That's too bad. You shouldn't have given me first pick,” she teases and opens the cookie tin filled with crayons.

“I g-g-guess I'll settle for the animal book.” He flips through the pages and comes across a picture of a crocodile in a suit wearing a top hat and monocle.

“You should color that one.”

“I was just th-th-thinking that.” He looks over at her book. “You should d-d-do that one.” Points  at the page. “She kinda looks like you.”

“You really think I resemble this princess?” She tilts her head to the right, giving the page a scrutinizing glare. He isn't wrong.

“Mmhmm,” he nods, digging through the cookie tin for several shades of green. “If I lived in a c-c-coloring book world, I'd think she was the prettiest.”

“Well,” she blushes. He hasn't made her cheeks bloom in awhile. “If I lived in a coloring book world, I'd think your crocodile was the most handsome.”

“Even though he's sc-scaly?”

“Yes, even though he's scaly,” she lightly shoulder bumps him. “I like scales and imperfections. I wouldn't be married to you if I didn't.”

Norman's lips curl into a crooked grin. “That's true,” he says and picks up the black crayon for the crocodile’s suit.

On a night that started as if they were about to attend a funeral, ended with both of them taking pleasure in each other company. Norman and Belle color in their daughter’s books and hang their pictures on the refrigerator so Belle can see them everyday during Norman’s stay at the hospital. They fall asleep in each other's arms. Feeling as if they traveled back in time to one of the easygoing nights they've had after getting married.

 

**\----**

 

Belle Gold opens her eyes to the morning sun shining brightly into the bedroom window and find herself alone in the bed. She sits up, slips her feet into her plush rose house shoes and checks on the baby in the nursery, but Baelee isn't in her crib. Belle searches the house for her daughter and husband, finding them in the kitchen together.

Baelee sits in her high chair next to the kitchen table, playing and eating her dry oat cereal. Her father is leaning over with his head deep in the refrigerator drinking from a carton of fruit juice.

“Please use a glass, sweetie,” she paces to the baby’s chair.

He quickly closes the carton and peek from the behind the refrigerator door. She's up? He thought she'd still be asleep for at least another half hour. “I'm not your sweetie,” Robert answers and closes the door.

“I know you're not. Norman always uses a glass,” she pulls a chair out from the table and sits next to Baelee.

“So why'd you call me that?”, he limps to the table.

“I don't know. To gain your attention, I guess.” She takes an oat cereal piece and helps it into Baelee’s drooling mouth.

“Well it worked,” he grumbles.

She gazes up at his gloomy face. “How are you feeling, Robert?”

“Well, you know, I'm okay for a man who’s about to go to a mental hospital.”

“You feel awful.”

“How did you guess,” he replies sarcastically.

“I'm sorry, Robert,” she sighs and folds her hands in her lap.

“Yeah,” he shrugs.

“I've been wondering why you weren't around these last few days.”

“I told Norman I’d give him this time with the baby,” he takes the seat next to her.

“Oh, I see.” She picks up the box of cereal from the wood kitchen table and pours more into the table on Baelee's high chair. “So what are you and Bae doing down here?”

“I was telling her goodbye. I thought you would be asleep for a little while longer. I was gonna have her back in the bed, then I was gonna let Norman wake up.”

“You were saying bye to Bae, then you were going to leave again and not say goodbye to me?” Her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach.

He remains silent.

“Why wouldn't you say goodbye to me, Robert?”

He turns away from her and folds his hands on top of the table. His shoulders slump forward and he sighs, “It doesn't matter.”

“Yes it does,” she rests her hand on his arm. “Because I want you to say goodbye to me.”

“I didn't think you'd care.”

“I wish you'd stop thinking like that.”

“Well what am I supposed to think, Belle?”, he snaps, slamming his open palm on the table. “I've never felt so dragged around in my life.”

“Please calm down.” She turns her attention to Baelee and she doesn't seem phased. “I just don't want you to scare the baby.”

“I'm sorry.” Takes a breath, calming himself. “I don't mean to scare her.”

“It's okay.” She wipes the crumbs from the baby girl's cheek and faces back to Robert. “I do understand what you meant.”

“Do you, Belle? Do you really understand? Because I feel like we should just stop whatever this is between us now. It's all just one sided anyway.”

“I never meant to make you feel this way,” she scoots her chair closer to him. “I never meant to feel this way and you might be right for us to end this now.”

“Good.” He inches his chair away from her. “That means you’re going to stop talking to me. I feel relieved already.”

“But I think it's too late for us to end it,” she quickly adds, trying to keep his attention.

“No it isn't. All you have to do is stop talking and it's done.”

“Ugh…”, she grunts, clenching her right hand into a fist. “You're so fucking stubborn and I hate it!”, she belts out. He always gets to a point when it's infuriating to speak to him.

Robert turns his head to her and gawks like deer caught in headlights.

“I care too damn much about you.” She takes a hold of his warm trembling hand. “I deeply care about you, Robert Gold,” she means every word. “I've been trying to embed that into that thick skull of yours. Every time you say I don't care… It just… It just pisses off. You're so damn stubborn and I hate it!”

“Belle…”

“Shut up,” she yelps, needing to get her words out first. “I don't know how many times I've said that I care about you, but it isn't enough for you. You're such an opposite from Norman it’s almost comical.” She snickers to herself for an instant. “But you're also so much alike,” she speaks calmer, cupping his cheek. She gazes longingly into his beautiful brown eyes and tells him the hardest part of what he needs to know. “I can't love you right now Robert Gold. I-I just can't,” she admits. “I _can_ care about you, and worry about you, and try to comfort you, and help you with anything you need. I can and I will do that with all my heart, but I can not love you. Not now, not in the way I want to love you. The way you deserve to be loved. I can't do that until everyone under this roof gets their shit together. I truly think this separation will be good for all of us. We need to mellow out and reset ourselves. The only way we can do that is away from each other.”

“Okay, Belle,” he responds.

“Okay?”

“Yes, I can live with that.”

“Is that all you have to say?” She's used to him saying whatever's on his minds. She's shocked to see that he doesn't have much to add.

“Yes,” he nods. “You said you want to love me, but now just isn't the right time. I can understand that.”

“You can?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” He knows that there are still issues, much larger issues, that they all must tackle first. “But what about, Norman?”

“What about, Norman?” She needs to know exactly what he means.  

“When, or if, you get to a place where you feel like you can love me, the way you want to, how will you feel about Norman?”

“The same way I feel about him now.”

“That's good. I don't want to take you away from him.”

“You can never do that, Robert Gold,” she states firmly. “You tried that once and it didn't work.”

“I know. I was… I was something else then.”

“Yes, you were,” she agrees, but she's proud of the man he has grown to be. “You are Norman and Norman is you. I think it's about time both of you start to truly see that.” She stands and picks up Baelee from her chair, dusting off the crumbs from her nighty.

“We can try.” He stands next to them.

“Maybe you'll learn how at the hospital.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs. Though he's content with the state of his relationship with Belle, Robert still believes the hospital won't do anyone any good. Especially himself. He takes her hand and laces his fingers with hers, thankful she was able to grind some sense into him. “Can I kiss you, Belle?” Licks his lips, anticipating an answer.

A smile stretches across her face. She was hoping he'd ask. “Yes, you can.”

He instantly connects his lips to her, breathing in deeply through his nose. Her taste is just what he needed.

Baelee tangles her fingers in her Pop-pop’s hair and he doesn't  move an inch from her mother's lips. She's had her hands in the silver locks all morning.

“Come on, Robert,” Belle speaks upon his lips, pulling the baby's hand off of his head. “We need to find your cane. You're going to need it at the hospital.”

“Alright, my love.”

 

**\----**

 

After Robert and Belle find the cane, they load the back of the yellow bug with the bags Norman packed. He won't have to worry about it when he returns to his wife and daughter.

Now Belle and Robert stand by the car, preparing themselves for farewells.

“Have you and Norman said goodbye?” Robert asks, taking his granddaughter from Belle's arms and kisses her cheek. He loves the child with all his heart.

“No, not officially. We really didn't speak of anything going on between all of us last night. Which was nice not having to talk about any of it.”

“What did you do last night?”

“We spent time together, colored in Bae’s books, and talked about a lot of other things. It kinda felt like it used too, back before everything happened.” She smiles, thinking about her night with Norman. They haven’t been able to sit down and just enjoy each others company in ages.

“That sounds nice. I'm happy you were able to have that feeling back.”

“It was nice.”

He smirks and chuckles to himself. “What you two did together isn't what I would have done on my last night with my wife. But it was still nice nonetheless.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip and pushes her hair behind her right ear, stopping it from flowing in the light morning breeze. The curiosity to know what's on his mind is beginning to sneak up on her and she gives into it. “What would you have done?”

Robert switches the baby to his left arm and steps closer to Belle, backing her up against the car. He leans on his cane, slowly tilting into her and whispers in the shell of her ear. “I would have told you how beautiful you were as I explored every inch of your naked body. I wouldn't have left a single patch of your flesh untouched by my lips.”

Belle licks her lips and closes her eyes, imagining the words he speaks. Her panties begin to moisten with each passing moment.  

“I would have savored that pretty pink pussy of yours,” he continues to murmur. “Drinking every single drop from you until you pleaded for me to stop, but I wouldn't stop. I know how much you love it and I like to see you squirm.” He lightly kisses her earlobe. “After I had enough, I would have fucked you,” he speaks a bit harsher in his rich Scottish brogue. “I would have fucked you so hard that you'd forget where you were. You would have moaned so loud and freely until we both came strongly. Together.”

She turns her head to him, trying to mask the fact that she's completely turned on. “It’s a good thing you weren't there,” she licks her dry lips. “I wasn't in the mood for sex last night.”

“Well what about now?”

“Right now, my child is awake and I always think about her first.” She takes the baby from his arm. “And though sex with you is extremely tempting, it isn't right for us. Not after the last time. I really lost myself with you and I have to get that under control.”

“I like it when you lose control, lass,” he groans through his teeth.

“Well I don't.”

“Fine.” He steps back and the flames of his arousal dims. He wanted to give her the pleasure of on last ride together. “I guess this is it then.”

“I guess it is.” Belle bounces Baelee in her arms. The child is beginning to get restless.

“Norman needs to wake up. So he can spend the rest of his time with you and Nugget.”

“That would be nice.”

Robert has one last worry still on his mind and he needs to ask her about it. “When you come to visit Norman, will you be coming to see me too?”

“Of course I will.” Why would he think she wouldn't?

“Alright. I was just making sure.”

“You didn't have to do that.”

“Yes I did.” He takes a deep breath, holding back tears. He told himself that he wasn't going to cry and he isn't. “Goodbye, Belle.”

“Goodbye, Robert Gold,” she kisses his cheek and his face booms with a smile.

“Would you mind walking me back to the house? I don't think Norman will be too trilled waking up out here.”

“Yes. Bae and I will walk you to the house.” She takes his cane and places it in the car through the open back window. She holds the baby on her left side and hooks her right arm around Robert's.

They all walk up the steps on the hill to the large Victorian manor and enter the house together.

##  *********

 

Norman blazes through the living room, carrying his daughter like a airplane in the sky. Reaching the record breaking speeds of two miles an hour. Causing the little one to giggle uncontrollably. “C-c-coming in for a landing,” co-pilot Norman Gold announces. They hit a few rough winds making port on Belle’s lap, but the landing is a complete success.

“Yay!”, Belle cheers, clapping the baby's hands together. “Say, more daddy more,” she coos in the baby voice she drifts in and out of when speaking for her daughter.

“No… No more,” Norman huffs between words, plopping down on the couch. “D-d-daddy's had enough.” Six times around the living room and once up the stairs is more than enough for his fifty-three year old body.

“Aww, daddy's pooped.” Belle turns the baby around to face her and kisses her cheek.

Norman falls back in the couch, catching his breath, and combs his fingers through his wife's long hair. “It's almost time, d-d-dearie.”

“Yes,” she scoots back in the couch and rests her head on his shoulder.

Baelee rests comfortably on her mother's belly.

The room falls silent. All the laughter that filled it moments ago has all disappeared and now it feels as though none of it ever existed.

Norman wraps his arm around Belle and kisses the crown of her head, taking in her scent. He has to keep it with him until the next time he sees her. “Belle?”, he whispers.

“Yes, sweetie.” She wraps his arm tighter around her, enjoying the sensation of snuggling against him. She won't be having this feeling for awhile.

“You're g-g-going to call me everyday. Right?” One of his many fears is that he won't see her again or that she'll be so busy that she can't make time for him.

She turns to face him and places her hand upon his cheek. “Yes,” she answers. Nothing in the world will stop her from picking up the phone.

“And I w-w-want to talk to Bae.” He curls his finger around one of his daughter auburn curls. “Even th-th-though she'll probably just be breathing on the phone, I st-still want to hear it.”

“Okay, honey.”

“Are you s-s-sure you’re going to be able to handle the motel?” The idea of her doing it alone still turns his stomach. “It seems b-b-back to normal for now, but I d-d-don't think that the vulture rush is over.” He rather call these serial tourist vultures instead of customers. They're only flocking to the motel for one thing.

“Yes, Norman, I can handle it. You don't have to worry about us. Okay?”, she assures him. After everything she's lived through, she wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her or her beloved child. She'll kill whoever tries. She already has. “I don't want you to worry about us. We'll be fine. I want you to think about yourself.”

“Th-th-that's going to be hard, but I'll try.”

“You're going to have to, sweetie.”

“I know,” he chokes back tears.

“Oh, Norman.” She kisses his cheek. “You can cry if you want too. You don't have to hold it in.”

“I know, but I d-d-didn't want to cry. I wanted to be str-strong going into this.”

“Tears are strength, honey.”

“Yes, I know,” he nods, feeling overwhelmed by the agony ripping through him. “I'm just g-g-going to miss both of you so much.”

“We're going to miss you too.” She consumes his lips, salty from the tears that fell to them. “I love you, Norman,” she speaks between breaths and reconnect their lips. “And I'm sorry. I don't think I've said that to you enough.” She kisses him again. “I'm part of the reason why you have to do this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Norman.”

“Don't be sorry, Belle,” he speaks without a stutter.

“But I am. I can’t help it. I feel so guilty.”

“This is why I didn't want to cry. I didn't want you to feel guilt or that it was all your fault, because it isn't.”

“I needed to hear that,” she sniffs. “We needed this. We both know we've been avoiding it.”

“Yes, we have.”

“I just hope you're able to forgive me. For hurting you. For breaking your heart.” She rests her hand on chest, feeling his muscle thumbing. Such a lovely sensation.

“I think I've already started too.”

She closes her eyes and more tears fall from them. “Thank you.”

“D-d-don’t thank me, my love.”

She wipes the tears from his face. Never thought she'd hear that he'd started to forgive her so soon. “Come on, sweetie.” She sits up and rests the sleepy child up on her shoulder. “They're expecting you to be there.”

“Al-alright.”

 

**\----**

 

Belle drives her husband to the opposite side of town, the furthest point from where the motel's location, holding his hand the entire time. Her heart beats rapidly and breaks a little the closer they get to mental health facility. Which resides on a separate building from the Storybrooke hospital.

Norman gazes at Belle, admiring her beauty. He hasn't been able to advert his eyes for nearly ten minutes. “You're so gorgeous, Belle,” he speaks softly, without a stammer in his voice.

“Thank you, sweetie.” She makes the last right turn before entering the hospital parking lot.

“You're voice is gorgeous too.”

“Oh, Norman,” she sighs. She pulls up to the building and stops the car. She turns off the engine and faces her husband. He looks so anxious.

The car sits dead silent and only sound is their heavy breathing (and Baelee’s snoring) as they each stare longingly into each other's eyes.

Norman’s grip tightens around his wife's hand. The last thing he wants is to let go, but he knows that he has too. “I d-d-don't want you to come in,” he stutters.

“What?!”

“I d-d-don't want you to bring the baby inside. I don't want to s-s-see her in that place. I don't want her to see m-m-me in there.”

“Norman. What about what I come to visit you? She's going to be with me.”

I know… I j-j-just… I just d-d-don’t want her to now. Not… Not this time. Please,” his lips trembles as he speaks.

“But, sweetie,” she runs her hand through his soft silvery hair. “You just want me to sit here and watch you go inside? Alone? I don't think I can do that.”

“That's why I want you to d-d-drive away.”

“Norman?” She never dreamed their departure to head in this direction.

“Please, Belle,” he begs. He has to see her leave. He need to know that she's gone before he steps inside.

“Oh, Norman…”, she sobs. Her heart can't handle the idea of him going inside alone, but this is what he want. This is what he thinks is best for him. “Okay…”, she nods. “Okay, sweetie… Okay.”

They instantly come together like the opposite ends of magnates. Kissing each other firmly. Stealing the breath from the other, hands tangled in locks of hair.

“Oh, Belle… I love you,” Norman gasps for breath and consumes her lips again.

“Mmmm…” she hums, digging her nails into his back, relishing this moment.

Norman breaks off the kiss and catches his breath. He needed it to end before he changed his mind, turn the car around to head home and make love to his wife. “You should be g-g-going.”

“Okay, Norman.” She gently caresses his cheek. “Do you need help getting your stuff.”

“No, d-d-dearie, I've got it.” He turns and looks back at his daughter resting peacefully in her car seat. He watches her move her arm and knocks over her bottle of milk. Norman reaches back and picks up the bottle from the floor, laying it gently on her lap. “Daddy loves, Bae,” he whispers.

“She loves you too, Norman,” Belle answers for their resting child.

“Will you kiss her every n-n-night for me?”

“Yes, I will. Every night.”

“Thank you.” He turns back to Belle. “One more th-th-thing I need to know, my love.”

“Yes, Norman? What is it.”

“Were you ab-able to say goodbye to Papa?” Though Robert told him that he wouldn't be around, Norman has a feeling that he was. He knows his Papa couldn't leave without seeing the family one more time.

“Yes… I did… Bae and I both did.”

“Th-th-that's good.”

She wipes his tears away for the final time and focuses on his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful. He's so strong. “I'll see you later, sweetie.”

He kisses her hand. “I'll see you later, Belle.” Norman rests her hand back on her lap and opens the door. He quickly steps out and opens the back door to remove his bags. He's eyes widen to the sight of Robert’s cane. “I for-forgot about Papa’s cane. You p-p-put it in here?”

“Yes, I did,” she answers.

“Thank you, my love.” He doesn't know how he forgot, but happy she didn't. He knows Robert won't leave him alone in this place and that he's going to do what he's always done; protect Norman.

“You're welcome.”

Norman quickly gives his daughter a kiss on the brow and stands up from the car. He swings his bags around his shoulder and closes the door. Norman clutches firmly to his Papa’s cane as he walk around to the driver's side and Belle lets down her window. This is one of the toughest decisions he's made on his own and he's following through with it. Norman kisses Belle’s cheek and steps away from the car. This farewell has gone on long enough. He watches his wife restart the yellow bug and she reflects back at him, eyes filled with tears and sorrow. “Just go, Belle,” he pleads.

Belle nods, setting the car in drive and gently places her foot on the gas. She drives away from the hospital, stomach cramping with guilt and regret. Her heart completely shattering.  

Norman watches the car until he can no longer see it and turns to the three story white brick building. He dries his eyes and paces towards the entrance, as his smooth steps gradually fade into a limp.

“We can do this, son,” Robert places the tip of his black and gold handled cane on the pavement, strutting a few steps with its support.

“I know th-th-that, Papa.”

##  *********

 

After a lonely drive back to The Gold Motel and taking care of her daughter (Who decided to be a hellcat after realizing that she wasn't going to get what she wanted; her father.) Belle lays in bed thinking about Norman and Robert. Wondering if they’re laying in bed and if they’re thinking of her as well. Tears fall from her eyes and onto the pillow underneath her head. She’s never felt this alone in the house. Norman and Robert has always been on the property in one way or the other. This hollowing feeling of loneliness is completely new to Belle.

Her mind starts to drift as she thinks about the men she loves. The words Robert whispered into her ear begin to take over the majority of her thoughts. And she starts to imagine what could have happened if she took him up on his offer.

Belle needs to feel something other than the loneliness rippling through her.

She turns to her back, wiping away tears, and thinks about her husband's touch. She caresses her breast with her left hand, imaging Robert doing the motion. Her breathing increases with the rate of her heart and her panties moisten with each passing thought.

As she slides her right hand down into her panties, Belle’s mind shifts again. Thinking of the last time she and Norman were intimate with each other. He played with her pussy with a delicate hand and rubbed himself against her from the behind.

“Ah,” she moans silently, tracing circles around her clit. Her panties gush with the nectar of her sex from the memory of Norman’s touch.

Belle’s mind jumps back and forth thinking of both men. Their love making skills differ from one another, but they both know exactly how to satisfy her.

“Mmm…”, she hums, thinking of the night with Robert in the cellar. The moment was raw and animalistic, unlike anything she's ever felt in her life. She lost control of herself that night. “Ah…” She quickens the rubbing motion of her fingers on her pearl, with the thought of Robert's body slamming against hers. “Mmm…”, she's so close to the climax.

Her body trembles and tightens with each graze of her fingers, thinking of her husband's lips against her. She can taste his flavor, both of his different flavors. “Oh… Oh…”, she moans a little louder and breathes a little deeper. She imagines Robert and Norman both cumming inside her.

“Shit!” Belle suddenly stops the motion of her hand.

Another thought came to mind while she relived that night on the cellar floor and it wasn't a thought of her sexy husband.

“Shit!” She sits up, removing her hand from her panties. “He has to go,” she mutters to herself. “I can't live in this house knowing that he's still in it.”

Belle feels as though she must get rid of Malcolm Gold’s remains. He has resided in the manor long enough.


End file.
